The Truth
by Sweetpanda12
Summary: From when she was young, Ozzie told Heather that her mother had died of an accident. However, he's been playing possum at that statement. What if she was hiding in New York? And what if a certain team of penguins begins to uncover one of their friend's secrets?


**Yeah... I multitask. But however, I love the OTH movie and it kept nagging my mind for some time. When I saw the PoM episode: Smotherly Love, That got my brain into motion with OTH and Heather. I clearly remember Ozzie telling his daughter that her mother died when she was young. Smotherly Love had a opossum in a mom figure, and this, ladies and gentlemen, brings me to this fic: What if Heather's Mother was still alive and lived in Central Park? What if Ozzie lied about her death? What if they could finally reunite? So now, we shall begin this story in a prologue. Enjoy!**

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Ozzie's PoV

5...

4...

3...

"Come on honey, you can do this," I encouraged to my wife, despite all this horrendous stress. Ugh, Shakespeare was slowly getting to me. Why did she have to take me to those drama classes?

2...

"Nearly there honey, come on!"

1...

"WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

And then the sweetest sound to possumkind was reaching my ears. The sound of a newborn child. And there was Shakespeare again. My wife was panting hard.

"Never, again." she managed out. She then took a long sigh of relief. "Put me though this again and I swear on the River Styx I'll throw you to Hades."

"Honey, why the Shakespeare again?" I asked, "It's starting to give me a headache."

"It's good for you Ozzie," she replied, "I've told you a million times, playing possum is what we do."

"I've heard that one a billion times now." I retorted, but my wife was in no mood to argue.

"I just had a baby Ozzie, give me a break." I gave up and had a small look at the bundle of fur in my wife's paws. "We have a daughter." She whispered, moving the furry bundle towards me a little so I could see her. Our little girl looked beautiful, like Artemis. And there was the Greek side of Shakespeare showing.

"What should we name her?" I asked in a low voice, trying not to disturb our daughter.

"Why don't you choose?" My wife asked back. I thought on our newborn daughter's name for a while.

"Heather," I replied, "Because she's as pretty as a flower."

"Alright then Ozzie, Heather is our daughter."

However, I had failed to notice the danger we had pulled ourselves in.

A low growl sounded behind us.

Bears.

"Honey," I asked, "Do you think we should get moving?"

"No duh Sherlock Holmes." And with that, she picked up baby Heather and placed her in her pouch, then, we took off running.

However, by the looks of my wife, running with a newborn baby in your pouch is pretty hard. Soon, at a far distance away, Heather did the most unexpected.

She gently pulled Heather out of her pouch and thrust her toward me. "Take her. Please." she begged. In shock, I took our daughter out of my wife's arms and held her.

"Honey," I said, "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Ozzie," she began, "You know that I've been bear bait for a long time." She took shaky breath before continuing. "I love you, but I'm afraid for Heather's sake. If I keep her with me, the bears will have more meat to taste. I don't want that to happen." I stood there in so much shock I had almost dropped little Heather. "Please Ozzie, take care of her for me, will you?"

I took a breath and made my decision.

"Yes. Dear, I'll do everything in my power to take care of our daughter, even if it kills me, but you aren't going to kill yourself for those bears are you?"

"That's just a cover," My wife agreed, "I'm going to go somewhere very very far away from the forest." Her eyes seemed to go off into the distance.

"But where?" I asked.

"Someplace called New York City," she answered.

I took in a shakey sigh. "Be safe sweetheart."

And with a nod, my wife disappeared into the shadows.

I stared down at Heather for what seemed to be an eternity. I knew she was going to ask questions about her mother when she was going to grow up, so, I had to lie. There was no choice but to do that. "After all, playing possum is what we do."

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**And that concludes the prolouge! Please Review!**


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